day 3 // á la mode.

I’m exhuasted. 

It could be from the wine.

Or the father’s day brunch I hosted.

Or the church charade with the little monsters.

Or the loading bags of rock into a truck bed for my grandpa.

Or the 5 hours of sleep Ford is letting me get these days.

Or the 100 degree heat.

Lets be honest, it’s the wine.

But what few brain cells I have left are wondering:  When was the last time you watched a kid eat an ice cream cone? It’s really unbelievable. How there is no method. No preventative measures taken to keeping it from melting. It’s really just one impulsive bite after another. Until it’s all over their face. And slowly trickling down their fingers and their arms until it literally drops like a bead of sweat off their elbow onto grandma’s patio furniture. To which all the adults jump to their feet immediately and call 911.

I think about the level of order to which I live my life. I mean, before I even get coffee I make my bed, use an overpriced 3 step facial system, brush my teeth, open all the blinds, put on my house shoes, check my calendar, comb my hair, turn the dimmers on the night time kitchen lights off, disarm the alarm system, empty the dishwasher if needed, pour drinks in sippy cups, set my dairy-free creamer right to the left of the coffee machine and make sure the tv is on in time to see the first 15 minutes of the Today show (should the kids have not already taken command of every screen within a 5 mile radius of our house already).

That all happens before I pour a cup of coffee. Yet, a child can eat an ice cream cone half-naked in the street with his feet burning on the asphalt while it drips INTO his swim trunks with mulch stuck to his shoulder and that is enough.

I think I’ll take an order of adulthood á la mode.

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Nicolle GalyonComment